


warm my heart (my cold and tired heart)

by whammy



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, inspired by betty gilpin, kissing at a funeral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whammy/pseuds/whammy
Summary: Debbie and Ruth haven’t talked for like, six months. Ruth gets a phone call that their old acting coach has died. They go to a funeral and finally kiss.
Relationships: Debbie Eagan/Ruth Wilder
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	warm my heart (my cold and tired heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this interview with Betty Gilpin:  
> [ https://debbiewilder.tumblr.com/post/188095333720 ](https://debbiewilder.tumblr.com/post/188095333720)

Being the president of a television network is a lot of fucking work. You have been at it for six months and you go from meeting to phone call to work lunch to meeting to phone call nonstop, every day. Sometimes you don’t even have time to go to the bathroom.

You love it. 

You love making decisions and telling people what to do. You love that you can fire someone for staring at your tits. Most of all, you love that you’re good at it. It’s been six months and the network is already gaining viewers and your pilots are being talked about in TV Guide. The long days and late nights are almost totally worth it. Almost.

You’re away from Randy too much. Taking over a network is relentlessly time-consuming, and Mark is constantly reminding you that it’s okay to prioritize work (where was this guy when you were married). Still, you wind up spending most of your evenings with Mark and Susan, who are now married and maybe you don’t hate them because for the most part, you feel happy now too.

It’s Wednesday and you barely made it in time to put Randy down, but you did and today you’re a good mom and a good boss. You’re chatting with Susan in the living room about your assistant and joke about poaching her from Mark when the phone rings. Mark must have picked it up, because the ringing stops quickly.

“Debbie, it’s for you,” he calls out from the kitchen.

“Who would be calling me here?” you ask, getting up from the couch.

“Um, Ruth?” he responds, and really, who else would it be. You keep walking or you’ll lose momentum and she just can’t have that much power over you.

You haven’t spoken to Ruth since Christmas Eve at the airport, when you offered her everything and she turned it down. What is there to say? Clearly she wanted something you couldn’t offer, something that probably involved Sam and his fucking mustache, something that didn’t involve you. Whatever. It’s fine.

You take the phone from Mark, who quickly exits the kitchen, and put the receiver to your ear. “Ruth?” is all you can manage and you think your voice warbled and you remind yourself that you’re not mad and she’s allowed to make her own decisions, even if they’re idiotic and make no sense. Besides, maybe she’s calling because she changed her mind. You’d give her a job in a heartbeat, there’s no denying it. Maybe it’ll stick this time, the two of you.

“Hey Debbie. I, um, thought I should call, but didn’t know how else to reach you. I got a call from Carrie and uh, John Mulholland died over the weekend.”

“Oh wow. Shit, that’s awful. We- I loved his class.” 

You’re sad and suddenly remembering being twenty-four and trying to make it as an actress. John’s class was the first time you felt like things would be alright, after months of a shitty waitressing job and living in an apartment that always had ants marching through the kitchen. It was also where you met Ruth. “Remember that ridiculous game we used to play during warm-ups?”

“How could I forget? He always got you to do great impressions. I loved the Lucille Ball you used to do.”

You smile. “Yeah,” you say, but stop yourself from going any further. Ruth doesn’t need to hear that working with her always made you funnier or that John always joked about the intensity between you. She definitely doesn’t need to hear that you cried all the way home after your last class, even though you just booked Paradise Cove and you shouldn’t have been cared that you would miss her monologue the next week. “Do you know when the funeral is?” is what you settle for.

“Oh, yeah. It’s Saturday afternoon,” she says. There’s a pause and the sound of a deep inhale before she adds, “do you want to go together?”

You want to say no, you really do. Life is easier without the drama of You and Ruth. You have convinced yourself not to call all this time, not to shout or cry or beg. And things have been fine without her. You don’t need her, really. But your heart has been beating faster ever since you picked up the phone and you can’t ignore the pull. Besides, it’s a funeral and John would be happy to know you both went. “Yeah, okay.”

You work out the details and the conversation stalls before you force it to end. You hang up the phone and head to the living room, where both Mark and Susan are trying to pretend that they weren’t eavesdropping. 

“It’s fine,” you say, “We’re going to a funeral this weekend.”

“Okay. Let us know if you need anything,” Mark says, and honestly who is this guy, but also, he never made you happy, not really. 

You say goodnight and head up to their guest room and can’t believe that this is how Ruth dragged you back in.

Three days later, you’re sitting next to Ruth at the funeral, listening to speech after speech about John. It’s hot and there’s no AC in the theater where the services are being held. You haven’t said much to each other, but a funeral is not the best place to have a conversation anyway. Ruth is fanning herself next to you and trying to be polite, but she is completely overdressed in a long sleeve dress and pantyhose. You are wearing much less and still feel beads of sweat trickling down your neck. 

“Are you okay?” you whisper, leaning toward her.

“I’m fine,” she replies, eyes glued forward. 

You try to focus on story being told at the podium, but you are distracted by Ruth’s sheer discomfort. You can’t believe she’s just sitting there, miserable, not doing anything about it. She hasn’t even pushed up her sleeves. Typical Ruth, always trying to be a martyr.

People around you start clapping and you lean over again. “You look so uncomfortable, are you sure-“ you start, but Ruth cuts you off.

“I’m fine Debbie,” and she marches off.

You sit through another speech and it’s truly lovely that so many people were positively impacted by John, really, but Ruth isn’t back when the next eulogy starts. You already know you’re going to go look for her, so you decide to stop delaying the inevitable and get up when the next round of applause begins.

You poke your head through some doors until you find Ruth sitting in front of a dressing room makeup station, staring at herself in the mirror. 

“You’ve, uh, been gone for a while. Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, closing the door behind you.

She doesn’t look up, but asks, “Aren’t you tired of fighting all the time?” 

“Are we fighting? Because this seems like the worst place to do it,” you deflect.

“I know it’s hard to believe Debbie, but I truly hate being the fuck up sidekick to your perfect lead,” Ruth says. 

You try to interject, tell her that you are far from perfect, but she keeps on going. “Do you think I like never getting call backs for the shitty roles I audition for? Or running lines with Sheila who is clearly much better than I ever will be? Sam couldn’t even get me a role in his own kid’s movie. I know I should have just told you yes, but I don’t know how to give up, Debbie.”

Ruth buries her hands in her face and you instinctively walk behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Then don’t. If you don’t want to give up, don’t,” you mumble, unable to tell her to choose herself over you with any conviction.

Your eyes meet in the mirror and your breathing has speed up and your heart is beating so loudly and you want to look away, but you don’t, you can’t. Instead, she turns the chair so she is facing you. There is a magnetism between you and it would be so easy to close the space between you and envelop her in a hug, or-

“Why didn’t you call? I know you didn’t agree with my decision, but I thought we were friends.”

Her eyes are boring into yours and you force yourself to look away. You step across the room, trying to put space between you and this thing that happens when you’re around Ruth. It’s easy to talk to her when you’re not looking at her anyway. “Bash has been up my ass to develop GLOW for the network. Every day, my schedule says ‘develop GLOW’ and every day I overschedule myself so I don’t have time to do it.”

This thing has been waiting inside of you and you can’t hold it in any longer. “I can’t do it without you. I don’t want to. But the thought of calling you and hearing no again, I-“

An apology hangs in the air, but there’s something more. Your ears are ringing and your heart is pounding but you can’t turn around and look at her. You try to calm yourself with a deep breath when you feel a tentative hand on your shoulder. 

“I missed you,” Ruth whispers.

You turn around and it’s too much, but your arms tightening around her because of course you missed her. She sees you, all of you, and doesn’t expect you to be anyone else. You feel her tense up, but only for a second, and then the two of you are in sync again. Maybe you can just stay here for a while. 

She pulls away first and you miss the contact immediately. She gives you the smallest smile, and God, why does this have to be so hard? Your hands find their way to her face and you’re not in control anymore because your face is getting closer and closer to hers until your lips meet and it’s so soft and warm and perfect and you’re kissing Ruth and you lo-

“Sorry, I just-“ you start, pulling away. 

You don’t get to finish. Ruth wraps her arms around your neck and is kissing you back, deeper and harder. You moan and of fucking course this is what was between you two all along. You want to put her on the counter and take everything off, but then there’s clapping and it distracts you both enough that the kissing ends.

“Is this that Eden you were talking about?” she jokes, a smirk forming on her face.

You snort. “It can be part of it.” You lean in and press a kiss into her lips and she is smiling when you pull back.

“Okay,” she replies, holding out her hand. You take it into yours and squeeze. She squeezes back and shifts your fingers so they are interlaced with hers. You are used to touching Ruth, you know how to pick her up and throw her for fuck’s sake, but it almost floors you how perfectly her fingers fit in between yours.

“You wanna get out of here?” you ask, suddenly brazen.

“Yeah. I think John would understand,” she replies, and maybe it’s the heat, but you swear she’s blushing.

As you lead her out of the room, you mouth a “thank you” towards the ceiling and smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I was super nervous to post, but this tiny fandom deserves more rep!


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